Actions Speak Louder Than Words
by amillionsmiles
Summary: A series of one-shots revolving around the Leviathan's characters.  They make decisions and face choices, because "actions speak louder than words."  DISCONTINUED
1. Will You?

It's been a few years since the war ended, and Deryn has rediscovered how it feels to be a girl. Her hair has grown longer and whips around her face like a blonde curtain as they hang up in the air, close to the stars. Deryn feels free as a girl, largely because she no longer has to hide her true identity from Alek. Finally, no more secrets and lies. She can be who she truly is, and still fly.

They're up in an air balloon, but this time Deryn isn't worried about flaming balloons or people dying. She feels comforted and safe, largely because of the presence of a certain someone in the air balloon with her.

Alek looks especially handsome today. His reddish-brown hair is tousled, and his green eyes sparkle with wonder at the sights around them. His starch white shirt stands out against the inky blackness, but the top two buttons are unbuttoned, giving him an effortless, easy air. Deryn is in a dress, but not one of the stiff ones her aunts used to force her into. This one is cotton and moves easily, while offering her warmth up in the starry sky. The two of them make a dead romantic sight, Deryn muses.

"Beautiful night, aye?" Deryn asks, who, while discarding her airman persona, hasn't discarded her airman's language.

"Not as beautiful as you," Alek offers. Deryn snorts.

"Stuff it – flattery will get you nowhere."

"It isn't flattery if it's true." Deryn rolls her eyes. Alek can be such a suck-up sometimes.

"Aye, you know what else is true? You're a suck-up and you know it," she says, but affectionately. Alek grins cheekily. Then, suddenly, he draws his gaze away from her and towards the ground, the stars, his eyes darting around her figure. Deryn tenses, wondering if something is amiss. "Alek? Are you okay?"

Alek slips a hand into the pocket of his pants, withdrawing a dark blue velvet case. Deryn inhales sharply. _It can't be._ Alek gets down on one knee, making the air balloon wobble slightly, and flips the case open.

Deryn is met by a blinding sparkle. _What in blazes…_ Her eyes open wider as she sees a diamond, perfectly set off against the backdrop of the night, and the blue velvet of the case. It's as if Alek's captured a star for her. Deryn, at a loss for words, manages to mutter, "Barking spiders, that must have cost a fortune."

Alek shrugs. "I've got some of that to spare," he says teasingly, but his green eyes are serious as they meet her blue ones. "Deryn…will you marry me?"

And then, because actions speak louder than words, Deryn kisses him as her answer.


	2. You Never Knew

It was a beautiful day on the Leviathan. Alek and Dylan made their way up to the top of the ship, where they sat admiring the blue sky. Dylan lay on his stomach, body hunched over something, but Alek was too entranced to ask what. A flock of geese flew below the giant airship, in a V-formation.

"You know, you Darwinists sure can create some amazing things," Alek told Dylan. The word he'd wanted to use was beautiful, but that was going too far. He was still a Clanker. So he settled for amazing, because many things can be amazing and fearsome at the same time, the way a giant mechanism can be amazing but still strike fear in the hearts of others.

Dylan looked up at Alek. "Coming over to our side, aye?" he teased. His face softened. "The Leviathan's a wonder, alright." Alek rolled over to his side and closed his eyes as a breeze whipped by.

"What's that you have there?" he questioned, nodding his head towards the object that Dylan hunched over. Dylan looked uncomfortable and shifted slightly, so that the item was no longer in Alek's view.

"Er, nothing," he cleared his throat. Alek frowned.

"I can tell it's _something_. Come on, Dylan, just show me." Dylan slid the object out from under his body, going red-faced.

"See, I have an eye for things…I kind of like to draw…" he babbled as he handed the sketch over to Alek. Alek scrutinized it, and a smile broke over his face.

"That's amazing. You've captured it perfectly." Alek turned the drawing towards Dylan. "Wow, I never knew you were an artist!"

Dylan stood up and eased the sketchpad out of Alek's hands. "Aye, there's a whole lot of things you don't know about me," he muttered darkly, before stomping away and scrambling down the ladder back towards the bottom of the airship. Alek was left staring at the spot where Dylan had sat only moments ago.


	3. Don't You Set Your Goals Too Low

Jaspert still remembered a day long ago when he'd sat at his grandmother's feet, illuminated by the dying embers of the fireplace on a cold winter's night.

"Little son," Grandmother started, her knitting needles clacking, "why do you set your expectations so low?" Jaspert was around eight at the time. Grandmother's affectionate nickname for him was "little son" because of his striking resemblance to his father, her son.

"What do you mean, Gramma?" Jaspert asked, confused.

"I ask you what you want to be, you tell me 'something easy, Gramma.' Why?" Jaspert crinkled his nose in confusion.

"So I don't have to try too hard. If I grow up and do something that's easy to do, then I won't have to work hard or be afraid of failing," he explained patiently. Grandma clucked in disapproval. Her gray, white-streaked hair fell in her face as she bent down to look him in the eyes.

"Don't you set your goals so low that you have to bend down to achieve them," she warned. "Better to set them high, where you always have to look up with your face to the sky and reach."

That day was the day Jaspert decided he was going become an airman when he grew up.


	4. Volger's Remembrances

Volger recalls when he was a young boy, reckless and carefree. Those had been happy days, when Clankers were all powerful and no one dare questioned the might of the great machine empire. He recalls what young love felt like, to be so completely absorbed in the other.

He remembers his first love, Adelaide. Sometimes, on days like these, he thinks of her wide blue eyes and slightly curly brown hair. Her melodic voice still rings in his ears from time to time, but that happens rarely. For her, he'd learned how to fence.

The day he learned she returned his affections was the happiest day of his life. Their love was a beautiful but brief one. She went to France. He stayed in Austria. Volger couldn't remember whose letters had been the first to stop – his or hers? It doesn't really matter now, Volger reflects. She's probably settled into a nice life with some suave Frenchman. Volger doesn't really mind. The life he now lives is not a good one to raise a family with, anyhow.

But as Alek and Mr. Sharp walk by, Volger notices a change in Alek's behavior. He watches Alek's hand brush Dylan's in a way that comrades don't. He notices that the boy hovers protectively around Dylan, nowadays. Volger takes all this into account.

He knows the young prince has figured out.


	5. Flying

**Author's Note: Sooooo sorry it's been so long. I've been running low on fuel recently. This one's really short, sorry!**

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It's an indescribable feeling. It makes her so _happy_, but there's not any specific reason why. It's hard to explain. It's like a current of electricity through her body, making her tingle. She loves it, craves it. She feels giddy when it happens. It's as if the world can do no wrong. Everything looks so much better, brighter, more beautiful.

These past months on the airship have been fantastic. She's seen sights that she never would have dreamed. Clanker machines that move almost as skillfully fabricated beasts, the Ottoman Empire, the kraken. There are some sights, too, that she'd rather forget – the awful sight of Sahmeran falling to pieces, the sounds of war and the knowing – the knowing that she has helped some people on their way to death.

But overall, she wouldn't trade what she's doing for anything else. She's made a home for herself on the airship, a friend in Alek…

A friend. Right now she's contented with that. She doesn't know if they'll ever be anything more, but right now she doesn't care, because the feeling's there anyway. It's always there, and always will be there even when he's gone. She can't imagine feeling anything else, because she's gotten so used to this feeling…

…the feeling of flying. Untouchable. Amazing. Alive.


	6. Chopsticks

**Author's Note: I felt like writing something more lighthearted, and at the time of this I was staring at a pair of chopsticks... (and yes, in Japan they do use chopsticks...)**

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"What," Alek begins, "is this for?" He indicates the slim sticks lying on the table. He and Dylan sit across from each other, looking over a low bamboo table.

"I believe they're called chopsticks," Dylan says, fiddling with his own.

"But what are they _for?_ Do they chop things?"

"No, you _Dummkopf_. You eat with them."

"Oh." Alek eyes the chopsticks curiously, then picks them up and struggles to hold them the way the other people in the building are. They look at him curiously, and he finds himself blushing with embarrassment as he tries to hold them properly. Frustrated, he sets them down. "And what," he starts up again, "is _that?"_ At the center of the table, set on a platter, are pristine bundles of white rice wrapped in seaweed. At the center of each is some type of fish or vegetable. One looks suspiciously like a piece of squid, and Alek feels nauseated.

Dylan, on the other hand, pops one in his mouth without any inhibitions. He chews thoughtfully. "It's chewy," he supplies, scooping up another piece with his fingers.

"Aren't you supposed to use these?" Alek gestures at the chopsticks.

"Well, _you_ aren't using them," Dylan retorts. "Try a piece," he suggests, pointing back at the rice bundles.

"Er, no thanks," Alek says queasily.

"Don't be such a ninny." Alek takes slight offense, but thinks that he'd rather be a ninny then try one of _those_ things. Still, he has to save his dignity, and haughtily proposes a deal: "I'll try one if you can figure out how to use these blasted chopstick things."

"Done," Dylan agrees, and picks up the slim sticks. He watches the other customers and attempts to recreate their skillful movements. As he tries to pick something up, it slips out of the sticks' grasp and onto the table. Dylan swears. Alek looks on, smug.

"Wipe that smug look off your face right now, you ninny," Dylan flares. "I'd like to see you do better." Alek shakes his head.

"That wasn't the deal," he retorts. Dylan frowns. He puts one chopstick down. With the remaining stick, he stabs a sushi piece and brings it up to his mouth.

"There," he says triumphantly, still chewing. "Now you have to try one." Alek pales. Following Dylan's example, he stabs one through before putting it in his mouth reluctantly.

He feels too sick to take offense at Dylan's amusement.


End file.
